He sits in a cave way up in a mountain; he perceives no other beings of any significance to him; he is alone sitting so deep in the cavern it only catches reducing rays of light; he is by himself in quiet perception of a moment of stasis peacefully persisting.
Change is imperceptible outside him and the movement of moments have become meaningless. He is purposefully poised in a timeless state. Mystics yearn for such prolonged period of solitude; they proclaim that in such quietness are the quintessential quandaries of life quelled.
He has trained to forego eating and drinking for days in the hopes that his extended effort in continuing solitude yields esoteric secrets or perhaps he is just addicted to the extreme quiet – a non-adrenaline junky.
Whatever the motive that makes mankind seek simulations of timelessness across the historical timeline of our civilizations there is more to 'the quiet' than meets the eye.
Sitting in solitude dissecting stillness results but in more stillness, it surges in magnitude and minutia to encompass the entire universe webbing the quiet of micro and macro space.
Concentric expansion of the calm bestows its largesse in the sensation of soar, like an eagle experiencing the quietude of unperturbed expanse, exhilaration touches the tangible, excites the being, inspiration builds on inspiration. The soaring stillness of solitude, inspired by inspiration.
The coursing of breath into the quiet caverns and cavities of the solitary soldier seeking the secrets of solitude invigorates his infinitesimal factories of life while drawing him deep into the darkness of diminutive space. Dissolving in its depth, descending into the infinitude of smallness the soldier stumbles upon the solid state of serenity.
Oscillating on contrived organizing of concentration with his consciousness qui vive on quiet he floats in the soar of solitude at one moment, then conjoins with sail of serenity the other.
Moving in meticulously metered moments between motionless macro and micro spaces the mystic masterfully mixes placid serenity with purposeless inspiration to crescendo into a magnificent moment of absolute all encompassing quiet.
The mystified mystic mesmerized by the mind engulfing quiet melds with it, yet remains in a mysterious state of mono-experience. The cave has collapsed from his consciousness, yea, his consciousness too has collapsed into the colossal calm, yet he remains perfectly poised for what is to come.
For beckoning through the dimensional doorway developed by cumulative beats of big and small quiet, behold! The awesome being of quiet–the Potentate of Peace.
Change is imperceptible outside him and the movement of moments have become meaningless. He is purposefully poised in a timeless state. Mystics yearn for such prolonged period of solitude; they proclaim that in such quietness are the quintessential quandaries of life quelled.
He has trained to forego eating and drinking for days in the hopes that his extended effort in continuing solitude yields esoteric secrets or perhaps he is just addicted to the extreme quiet – a non-adrenaline junky.
Whatever the motive that makes mankind seek simulations of timelessness across the historical timeline of our civilizations there is more to 'the quiet' than meets the eye.
Sitting in solitude dissecting stillness results but in more stillness, it surges in magnitude and minutia to encompass the entire universe webbing the quiet of micro and macro space.
Concentric expansion of the calm bestows its largesse in the sensation of soar, like an eagle experiencing the quietude of unperturbed expanse, exhilaration touches the tangible, excites the being, inspiration builds on inspiration. The soaring stillness of solitude, inspired by inspiration.
The coursing of breath into the quiet caverns and cavities of the solitary soldier seeking the secrets of solitude invigorates his infinitesimal factories of life while drawing him deep into the darkness of diminutive space. Dissolving in its depth, descending into the infinitude of smallness the soldier stumbles upon the solid state of serenity.
Oscillating on contrived organizing of concentration with his consciousness qui vive on quiet he floats in the soar of solitude at one moment, then conjoins with sail of serenity the other.
Moving in meticulously metered moments between motionless macro and micro spaces the mystic masterfully mixes placid serenity with purposeless inspiration to crescendo into a magnificent moment of absolute all encompassing quiet.
The mystified mystic mesmerized by the mind engulfing quiet melds with it, yet remains in a mysterious state of mono-experience. The cave has collapsed from his consciousness, yea, his consciousness too has collapsed into the colossal calm, yet he remains perfectly poised for what is to come.
For beckoning through the dimensional doorway developed by cumulative beats of big and small quiet, behold! The awesome being of quiet–the Potentate of Peace.
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